


Crashed

by ShayneyL



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hiding an injury, Prompt Fic, Whumptober 2020, internal bleeding, shuttle crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayneyL/pseuds/ShayneyL
Summary: Harry Kim and Tom Paris crash-land a shuttle on a frozen mountain.  Harry fears he won't survive, but even more, he fears Tom will blame himself. Even though it's not his fault.
Relationships: Harry Kim & Tom Paris
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Whumptober prompt #11, "crying."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

"Harry! Oh, god. Harry! Harry…"

A voice was calling his name. Whoever it was seemed very distressed. Harry was so tired, and wanted nothing more than to fall back into sleep, but that distress pulled him to reluctant consciousness.

It was Tom. And he was crying. He couldn't remember ever seeing Tom cry before. Some terrible must have happened. "What's wrong? Tom?"

Tom looked up, startled. With an inarticulate cry, he threw his arms around Harry.

Harry winced. He hurt all over. He was also freezing.

"I thought you were dead. You scared the crap out of me, Harry." Tom was trembling, his voice rough and muffled against Harry's chest.

It was slowly coming back. Some kind of interference, not detected until they hit it. The shuttle out of control, heading toward the planet surface way too fast. They must have landed somehow. He was looking up at what was definitely a planetary sky.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"Fine. You?" Tom sat up, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"Fine. Just a little bruised." Actually, Harry wasn't at all sure about that, but he knew Tom still had nightmares about Caldik Prime. His worst fear was hurting or killing someone again by pilot error. There was no way this incident was his fault, but he would blame himself anyway.

"Good, because I can't find the medkit. It was a hard landing."

Gingerly, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position. He was on a survival blanket, surrounded by snow. Tom must have pulled him from the wreckage. Hard landing, hah. It was a full-on crash. The debris field stretched for what was probably kilometers. Shuttles were designed to absorb the impact by shredding or crumpling if the worst happened, but he was still amazed they were both alive. There wasn't much left that was recognizable. The cockpit was broken in two. There was what looked like a nacelle, sticking out of the snow at a sharp angle… Oh, crap.

"Tom, the warp core. Did you scan it?" The warp core usually shut down automatically after a crash, but this was so bad the safeties may have been damaged.

Tom shook his head. "I found a tricorder while I was looking for you, but it's not working. Broken by the impact, probably."

"We need to get out of here." If the warp core overloaded, there would be a very big boom.

"Damn it. You're right. Come on." Tom stood, and helped Harry up.

They decided the quickest way to put some space between them and the warp core, wherever it was, was to move perpendicular to the debris field. If they found a functioning tricorder, or repaired the one Tom found, they could scan for the warp core and figure out if it was in danger of overloading, and when, but for now, they had to make tracks. They picked up whatever useful items they found along the way — a small toolkit, some ration cubes, a curved piece of metal that could serve as a pot — but didn't linger.

Finally they came to a large rock outcropping, and stopped to rest in its lee. "Think we're far enough away?" Tom asked. He brushed the snow off a ledge, and sat down.

"I hope so," Harry said. It occurred to him that if the warp core exploded, it might cause an avalanche, but he had no idea how far away was safe from something like that. He sat beside Tom. "We don't want to get too far away. They'll be looking for us near the crash site." They had their combadges, but he suspected they might not work through the interference.

Tom shook his head. "It might be quite some time before they find us. I think we need to move down. We'll freeze to death if we stay at this elevation."

Harry realized that Tom had a point. They didn't have the right gear for this environment. They had the blanket, as well as a phaser and a canteen that Tom found in the storage compartment by the helm, and the few items they'd found in the snow as they left, but they weren't enough to keep them alive for long at this elevation. The scans of the planet Harry had gotten before the crash showed it was temperate enough, at lower elevations. "You're right," Harry reluctantly admitted. He really was not looking forward to hiking this terrain in the snow.

"Can you fix the tricorder?"

A working tricorder would be very useful in helping them pick a route down. "I'll try." Tom handed him the tricorder and the tool kit they'd found.

Sure enough, it was busted. Harry tried the time-honored solution of engineers everywhere, and shook it. It came on. He tried scanning Tom.

"Well?"

"According to this, you're a Gorn. And you're very pregnant."

"Great."

"The memory has been damaged, but I think the scanner's good. And there's a loose connection somewhere." He couldn't return it to full functionality, but he thought he could get it into somewhat useful condition. He pried open the back.

"Your hands are shaking," Tom said. "We need some warmth." He rummaged through their limited gear, which was bundled into the blanket, bringing out the phaser. He fired it at the rock at Harry's feet. The snow vanished instantly, the rocks glowing with welcome heat.

Tom melted snow in their makeshift pot by placing it by the phasered rocks while Harry kept working on the tricorder. It took longer than he expected. The rocks were cool by the time he was done.

"There," he said. "It should tell us what the terrain ahead is like. Just don't trust any of the life scans."

"Good job," Tom said. He handed Harry the canteen, and took the tricorder. "Drink as much as you can."

Harry took a sip. He was thirsty, but the water sat queasily in his stomach. He was beginning to suspect he'd suffered some kind of injury in the crash. Something worse than the expected bruises and strained muscles. He felt a bit dizzy and nauseous, and somehow…off-kilter. But there was no point in mentioning it. It would only upset Tom, and there wasn't anything to be done about it anyway, with no medical tricorder and no medical kit.

"Come on. Let's go before it gets too dark." They packed up their small amount of gear, and headed down the mountain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Whumptober prompt #20, "Lost" and "Field Medicine."

Harry was having a hard time keeping up with Tom. Usually, it was the opposite. He was younger and not far from his days as a star athlete at the Academy, and had to ratchet it down a notch if he didn't want to leave Tom in the dust. Not today. He waded through the snow in Tom's wake, feeling increasingly lightheaded and out of breath. He had a pounding headache that was getting worse, too.

Tom noticed, of course. "You okay, Harry?"

Harry nodded. He didn't have breath to spare for talking.

"I think this is the easiest way down." Tom was holding the tricorder, looking between its screen and the ground in front of them.

_This is the_ easiest _way?_ Harry stared deep ravine in front of them. It looked like more than a cliff than a slope.

Tom read his expression. "It looks worse than it is. It's not as steep as it appears, and it levels out at the bottom. Should be easy hiking once we reach the bottom of this grade."

Harry looked at the steep dropoff, and wondered if the tricorder readings were reliable. But he said, "Okay. Just let me rest a bit." He sat down on a convenient boulder, not caring that it was covered with snow.

Tom brushed away the snow and sat beside him. He took their bundle of gear, which Harry had been carrying, and fished the phaser out, once again heating the rocks so they could warm themselves and melt snow for water.

Tom drank several gulps from the canteen, and offered it to Harry. Harry took a sip.

Tom frowned, taking Harry's wrist. "Your pulse is fast and thready. Have you ever had altitude sickness?"

Harry shook his head.

"I wish I knew how high we are. Or rather, what the atmospheric pressure is." The tricorder seemed to be reading the terrain correctly, but the other readings couldn't be trusted.

"What's the treatment for altitude sickness?" Harry asked.

"Without access to drugs or oxygen…rest. And go lower as fast as possible."

Given their current situation, it was one or the other. "Let's go lower."

Tom gave him a long look, then nodded. "Come on."

Tom took the bundle of gear, giving Harry just the canteen to carry. "Try to drink as much as you can. Take a sip every couple of minutes. And eat." He handed Harry a ration cube.

Harry tucked the cube into his pocket. He wasn't hungry, and wasn't sure he could keep it down.

Tom was right; it looked a lot steeper than it was. It was still rough going. Harry stopped several times along the way, with the excuse of drinking water. He knew Tom was intentionally keeping a slow pace for him, and he was still struggling.

Harry brooded on that as he trudged along in Tom's footprints. Tom would be better off without him, but he knew Tom would never leave him. That simply wasn't in the Paris DNA. Harry would just have to keep up.

Finally, they reached the bottom. Harry sank down onto the nearest rock, too exhausted even to pretend he wasn't. "I'm all right," he told Tom, who was clearly worried. "Just give me a minute to rest."

Tom looked at the tricorder, up at the sky, and then at Harry. "Let's camp here tonight. The walls of the ravine will provide some shelter, and we won't get much farther before it gets dark."

"I can keep going," Harry insisted.

"Sure you can. We're staying here." Tom was in command mode; Harry didn't see this side of him often, and knew better than to argue.

Tom put down the bundle of gear beside Harry, then began clearing a spot for their camp. Harry tried to get up to help, but Tom ordered him to sit back down. He felt guilty, but also privately relieved. He was near the end of his strength. He just needed some rest, he thought. A good night's sleep, and he'd be okay tomorrow.

Tom cleared a spot of snow and stones, and used the phaser to heat up the area. "Otherwise the surrounding rock will be a heat sink, and we'll freeze."

Harry got up to move to the spot Tom had chosen. The heat from the phasered rocks was very welcome. Tom sat beside him, draping the blanket around them, and putting some snow in the "pot" to melt. Dinner was a ration cube each. Harry pretended to eat his, and put it his pocket with the first one.

It wasn't a bad campsite. There was a sandy spot to lay the blanket on, and they were able to fold it over them. They had to re-heat the rocks a couple of times during the night, but were fairly comfortable.

Harry was late waking up. When he opened his eyes, he realized Tom was waiting for him, unable to pack up the gear because Harry was still wrapped in the blanket. "You should have woken me."

Tom shrugged, biting into the ration cube that was breakfast. "You needed the rest."

Harry found he did feel a little stronger today, and began packing their gear into the blanket. Tom gave him a ration cube and the canteen, and they set off again.

Harry eyed the ration cube, and though he felt better, he decided he wasn't up to eating it yet. He stashed it away with the others, and sipped from the canteen instead.

He did all right the first couple of hours. But gradually, he found it harder and harder to keep up with Tom. Maybe it would help to drink more.

It was a mistake. The icy water only stayed down a few seconds before it came violently back up. He found himself on all fours in the snow, retching until there was nothing left to bring up.

And it hurt. He wondered if he had a strained muscle or broken rib or something.

There was a hand rubbing his back gently. Tom. Tom was kneeling beside him.

"Harry, you haven't been eating, have you?"

Harry pushed himself upright. There was no point in lying. The contents of his stomach were splashed in front of them, and were obviously mostly water. He reached into his pocket, and gave Tom the handful of ration cubes, still wrapped. "I didn't want to waste them."

Tom looked at the ration cubes, frowning. "You have to eat, Harry. And drink."

"I know, but…"

"Let's rest for a bit," Tom said.

"No," Harry said. "We have to keep moving."

"Just for awhile. We can dissolve a ration cube in hot water. Easier on the stomach that way."

Harry wasn't so sure about that. The ration cubes were designed to be eaten solid or dissolved in water, but ration cube "soup" was notoriously unpalatable. He didn't have the energy to fight Tom on this, though, so he gave in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Whumptober prompt #10, "Internal Bleeding," prompt #20, "lost" and "field medicine," prompt #27, "Ok, who had natural disasters on the 2020 bingo card?" prompt #30, "Ignoring an injury" and "Internal organ injury."

Harry had been able to take only a couple of sips of ration cube "soup." Tom wanted to stop for the rest of the day, but Harry insisted they keep going. They couldn't survive for long at this elevation. It was too cold, and there was no food or fuel to be found this high up.

Harry was beginning to suspect he wouldn't survive anyway. He was too weak to go much further. And if Tom refused to leave him, Tom would die, too.

By the late afternoon, Tom was half-supporting him. They moved slowly down the mountain, until Harry couldn't move another step, and collapsed. "I'm sorry," he whispered. _Leave me_ , he wanted to say, but knew there was no point. Tom would never do that.

"It's all right," Tom said. "It's about time we stopped for the night anyway."

Once again, Tom did the bulk of the work in setting up their campsite. They shared a ration cube, dissolved in hot water. Harry managed a few sips, while Tom drank the rest.

The phaser was starting to run low. Tom didn't mention it, but he used it more sparingly, and it was colder and less comfortable when they wrapped in the blanket for the night.

Harry lay beside Tom, shivering a little and filled with despair. Something was seriously wrong. He strongly suspected he'd suffered some kind of injury in the crash. One that would kill him. He didn't want Tom to blame himself. But most of all, he didn't want Tom to die trying to save him.

After awhile, an idea occurred to him. He pushed himself upright. When Tom looked at him, he said, "I am just going outside and may be some time."

Tom loved the 20th century, and was familiar with 20th century explorers. He would recognize the last words of Lawrence Oates, who had walked out into an Antarctic blizzard so as not to be a burden on his companions. Maybe, just maybe, he would let Harry take the heroic way out.

Tom frowned, puzzled, then suddenly understood. His hand shot out, grabbing Harry's wrist. "No. Lie back down, you idiot. You aren't going anywhere."

"Tom…"

"Shut up and get some sleep." He pulled Harry back down, under the blanket, and wrapped himself around Harry so he couldn't leave. "In case you forgot, the entire expedition perished, so Oates' martyrdom didn't help a bit."

So much for that plan. Harry tried to think of something else, but fell asleep before he could come up with anything.

* * *

The sun was high when he awoke. There was no sign of Tom. Had Tom left him behind after all? If so, he'd also left the blanket and most of their gear.

He should get up, start packing up, get ready to move on. But he was too weak. When he tried to get up, he got so dizzy and lightheaded he fell back down immediately.

"Just rest, Harry." Tom was back. "We're taking a day off."

"No," Harry protested.

"It'll be all right. I scouted ahead a bit. If the tricorder can be trusted, we're about two days' walk from the treeline. If we can get that far, we'll have access to firewood. We can take a day to rest here."

"It's too cold!"

"We can warm the rocks with the phaser. There's enough charge for a couple more days. Worst comes to worst, I can hike down, get some firewood, and bring it back."

There were so many things wrong with that plan Harry didn't know where to start. Before he could decide, there was a distant rumble, and the whole mountain seemed to shake. "Is it an earthquake?"

"I think it's the warp core." Tom was looking back the way they came. A fiery explosion lit the sky, and immense clouds of snow sped toward them.

"Avalanche! Run, Tom!"

"I'm not leaving you."

"Go!" Harry pushed Tom. "Get to higher ground!"

Instead, Tom pulled Harry with him, to hunker behind a small rock outcropping. The rumbling sound grew louder, closer, then it was on them. Icy snow pelted Harry's face, filled his nose and mouth, yanking him out of Tom's arms and tumbling him head over heels.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. Everything was white. He was paralyzed, unable to move due to the sheer weight of the snow on top of him. He struggled at first, futilely, but gradually gave up. It felt oddly peaceful. He hoped Tom had survived, and would not mourn him too much. Then he saw a beautiful, lush landscape, like the Shenandoah Valley on Earth, and started to walk toward it. Finally, he was going home.

* * *

He awoke to a scene that was far from peaceful. People were yelling and running around. He was prone on the floor…of sickbay? He gasped for air, then vomited half-melted snow.

He was rolled onto a stretcher, then lifted and moved to a biobed. "Tom? Is Tom all right?"

"I'm here, Harry." Tom was beside him, looking rather the worse for wear, but alive. Harry could have fainted with relief.

"Lie down, Mr. Paris," the Doctor said. "You are not in any condition to assist in this case."

"I'm all right, but I think Harry's suffering from altitude sickness."

"Ridiculous," the Doctor said. "That planet does not have any mountains high enough for altitude sickness to be a problem. At least for humans. Some species…"

"Then what is, Doc? Something was wrong. Even before we got buried in an avalanche."

The scanner whirred. "He's bleeding internally. Probably injuries suffered in the shuttle crash."

"Will he be all right?" Tom asked.

"Yes," the Doctor said. "He should be fine. But it looks like we rescued you two just in time. He wouldn't have survived much longer."

Tom looked stricken, and the Doctor noticed. "It's not your fault, Mr. Paris. There's little you could have done without a medical kit."

"It's okay," Harry whispered. "I'll be all right." Then a hypo hissed against his neck, and everything went dark.

* * *

_Voyager_ had been looking for them. The interference that caused them to crash had also interfered with _Voyager_ 's sensors, and it wasn't until the crashed shuttle's warp core overloaded that they'd been able to zero in on the proper area and beam Tom and Harry to safety. Just in time.

Tom was treated and released. Harry had to spend a night in sickbay, but had been released the next day. They had both been given two days off to recover.

Harry commed Tom as soon as he got out of sickbay. "Lunch?" he offered. "My treat."

"Holodeck-2, 1100 hours," Tom replied.

When Harry got to the holodeck, he was surprised at the program that was running. It had been awhile since Tom had run this one. "Sandrine's?"

Tom was at the pool table. "You're supposed to take it easy," he said. "So no running around in Captain Proton, and no volleyball in the resort program." He chalked his cue.

"You okay?"

Tom shrugged. "I had a little frostbite, and a broken wrist from being hit by something in that avalanche. Good as new now." He sent a ball into the corner pocket. "See?"

"Good." He watched Tom hit a nice bank shot. "Thanks for saving my life."

Tom straightened, and put down his cue. "Harry…did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you were bleeding internally from a ruptured spleen."

Harry hesitated. "I kind of suspected something was wrong," he admitted. "I didn't know what it was."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry. There was nothing you could do, anyway. And…"

"And what?"

"I didn't want you to blame yourself, if…"

"If you died? You think I'd have felt better if I thought you were dead of altitude sickness instead of internal bleeding?"

"It's always so hard on you when someone's injured when you're piloting."

Tom ran a hand over his mouth. "I didn't realize it was so obvious." He turned away.

Harry went up to him, tentatively touching his shoulder. "Everything worked out all right. Don't be angry."

Suddenly Tom's arms were around him, hugging him hard. "I'm not angry. I'm scared. You almost died down there, Harry."

"So did you." _Because you wouldn't leave me._

Tom sighed heavily. "Look, I'll try to stop blaming myself. Just…be honest next time?"

"All right."

They stood there, embracing each other, reveling in their survival…when Tom's stomach gave a loud rumble. Laughing, they broke apart.

"So, lunch? I think you said something about it being your treat?"

"I did."

"Sandrine!" Tom called. "We're ready to order." He led Harry towards a table. "Since you're paying, I want the works. Appetizer, soup, salad, entree, dessert, drinks…"

"I should have known better," Harry said in mock horror. But he didn't mind. He hoped Tom ordered the most indulgent lunch rations could buy. He deserved it. And so much more.


End file.
